


Do not Mourn for this Family

by tired_walnut



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Before 2/21 stream, Character Study, Dream referenced, Happy Ending, Platonic Relationships, Protective Wilbur Soot, Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, dialog at the very end, fixit, i need my family dynamic and i will make it, i've tried to post this twice and each time my internet went out, mentions of abuse, phil is a bad dad but he's trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tired_walnut/pseuds/tired_walnut
Summary: Do not mourn for this family who was never truly a member, mourn the individual members. Mourn the father, brother, musician, and Atlas. Mournt this family, but watch as they put themselves back together.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	Do not Mourn for this Family

Do not mourn this family when you hear of their actions against each other. Do not mourn this family that was not a family in the first place, for you cannot mourn something that was not there in the first place. They are a family though, but they are not united. They are four pieces to a torn picture. 

Do not mourn for the father who killed his musician son, who chose his eldest time and time again, and left his youngest to die twice. He does not deserve to be pitied for he chose this path, and he knew what he was doing.

You can mourn the brother who lost his twin and was used as a weapon. You cannot mourn the fact he let himself be used as one, that his actions were taken for the sake of vengeance. The crimes committed against him pale in comparison to the crimes he committed.

Mourn the musician who begged to be killed at his fathers hand after destroying the nation he built. Do not mourn for the madman he became in the end, for that was not who he truly is. No, focus on the musician part of him.

But by all means, mourn the young boy who’s been broken by everyone he’s trusted, who learned violence through seeing other peoples actions but was yelled at for choosing it himself. Mourn for the fact he was ignored by everyone he cared about. Mourn for the boy he used to be.

—

Someone who is born from chaos is someone that will be rejected by many for they do not want to deal with the breaker of peace. They do not consider the child's age, only sixteen and just wanted a family. Only sixteen and a shell of the loud kid he once was, he does not feel pride around chaos anymore, how can he when guilt weighs him down?

He was not meant to be happy, it seemed. For violence was not a good language to speak, but it was the one he taught. Whenever he messed up no one would fix it, they would blame the child then bully him for being one. He just wanted a home. For that, he was filled with sorrow, but not for himself. For his family.

He was sorrowful. He was sad for who his family could have been, for the life he missed out on. The life he did not know how to get back for he never had it in the first place. He was sorrowful for everyone, so he ignored own problems in order to bear the weight of everyone’s crimes on his aching shoulders. That is what they wanted, right? They wanted him to take the blame for everything, so he will.

Sorrow was felt for the father forced to kill his son, only being there for the musician's end. Sorrow that the father would choose his eldest and leave his youngest as he had before. Sorrow for the man who could not love all of his kids equally. Sorrow that they had never been a family because the father separated them.

Sorrow for the brother that the boy had betrayed twice after the brother gave everything for the boy. In truth, they were both to fault, but it had been so engraved into the boys head that everything was his fault. He was sorrowful for the life he could have had, and he regretted not knowing how to be happy. He was sorrowful for his brother because his brother did not look at others perspectives. 

Sorrow for the madman who used to be soft, the man who traumatised his little brother. Sorrow that the boy could not have been better for the brother who raised him. Sorrow for the old guitar that used to be so used but was now collecting dust, the guitar would never be held by the man who used to be soft. 

Sorrow is a weighted chain tied to an ankle, heavy to lift, and you cannot move until you get it off. To get the chain off, you needed someone to do it for you, you would thank them and be on your way, using them for yourself. This boy was used to being used. To only be worth something to fight, until then he’s useless. Everyone used him for the blame, but his family used him the most.

Used by his father, who swore to protect the boy, but used his gullibility to his advantage. The boy would run back to his father, that is what a parent is for. The father would use the boy to justify his own crimes, but the boy was used to being used so he would accept this and become Atlas instead of Theseus. 

Used by his brother, who only claimed him useful after the boy turned to violence instead of words. Used for the brother to get closer to the boys home to blow it up, used by the brother who used the boy in return. Until he was violent, the boy was useless.

Used by the madman who made him fight wars, who made him turn into a soldier before he could be a kid, he made the boy lose two lives to the nation the madman blew up in the future. But the boy could not be mad at the madman, he could not be mad at the brother, for the brother raised him with love and praise. For that, the boy would always forgive him. 

Tommy was a broken, used, and sorrowful boy. He would remain this way for he did not know what to do if he was not one of the three things. He was Theseus, exiled by the nation he made and died for, but he will not be pushed off the cliff by Lycomedes for Lycomedes in this story hated Theseus and would not look him in the eye. Theseus was also Atlas, doomed to carry the weight of everyone's sins on his shoulders with no way to escape. 

—

The musician never used violence, he did not like to. He preferred to use his fatal words instead of a sharp sword. His tongue was his weapon, it was his armour. A sword was neither. A sword was a weapon to defend and murder without care. But words could break a man without death, words could control a person. And he loved control.

Words were what he controlled, he could control what his opponents would say and counter it easily. He had never been in control of his own life, he could not leave his brother alone in that cold house, so he was forced to stay there and desperately try to find warmth.

He trusted his words more than anything (That is a lie, he trusted his little brother more). He trusted that his words could get him and his brother out of trouble that they knew so well. He trusted that he could command armies and break people with his tongue and never be exhausted. 

Words were his armour and sword, and he knew that he would never use their physical counterpart so long as his tongue was sharp. He stayed true to this, even as he descended into madness as it was the only solution that he could see. He used his words to divide the family that was never a family in the first place, but he could not use his words to put them back together, for his words were not a shield that could protect them.

Words were used to beg a negligent father to kill the madman who used to be soft. Words to control his fathers actions as he had controlled many others before because control was what his words did best. Words to a father that was never really a father.

Words to a twin so violent that the twin could never counter as the twin did not use his tongue, he used sword and armour. Words to a twin that he hated, but he would deal with him so long as he got violence, as long as he could control the twin brother's actions so the madman would never have to put on armour and wield a sword with the intent to kill. 

Words to praise the little boy he had raised because their father did not know how to be a father. For once, he did not use his words to break people or to control them, he used his words to praise the little brother as the madman had wanted to hear that praise while he was young. The words of praise were replaced as the soft man turned mad, he used his brother in the first war. He watched his brother die and come back two times. He tore down the boy. He spoke words filled with malice that he could not control, these words were not true and he would spend the rest of his afterlife regretting putting his sins on Tommy’s shoulders.

In the madman's exile, he could not use his words to sway the man he had one broken as the goat man knew better than to trust his honey coated words. So he did what his family did best while still staying true to never hold a sword or wear armour. He used total destruction. 

Destruction was not familiar, he had only watched his family commit this act, but never partook in it. Destruction was freeing, it was like growing wings and flying to the sky knowing that you can never fall again. But words were controlling, in the end, freedom would always win. 

The nation that he created with his own hands, his fathers illusion of them being a happy family, himself, his twin, and himself. He was destructive, because that was what his family relied on.

Destruction was his father killing him, for that set the madman free of his sins, his pain, his sorrows. Destruction of whatever illusion the father had of a happy family was destroyed on November 16th. 

Destruction was when the twin blew up L’manburg with Withers after the madman pressed the button that would blow it up using TNT. Destruction that made the madman smile in his passing, as he was free of this horrid nation, his twin made sure of that. 

Destruction broke that path, forever and always the madman would be the one that set an example for Tommy, and Tommy had learned that he did not want to follow the path of destruction. The path that the madman made sure to blow up. He was free, he was free of the burden that his brother would follow destruction. 

The madman was not always mad, he used to be kind. He used to strum a forgotten guitar at the darkest time of night. But now Wilbur was mad, he was the one who pleaded for his father to kill him, who wanted to die with his unfinished symphony. He was a man who used his words in the very end, even though his second to last action was destruction. 

—

The Blood God was not a title to be proud of, it was a title that entitled terror, fear, murder. It was a curse, and the person who bore it was the most cursed with his constant voices in his head that demanded violence or simply spammed ‘E’. He earned this title through his skill with a sword, one that would mercilessly cut through opponents or innocents, depending on if they went against his views.

Unlike his twin, who had sworn off swords and armour; the Blood God embraced it. He embraced the power each swing of his sword brought and how safe his armour felt. Where his twin had chosen words and people, the Blood God chose violence and himself. He could not control people and words, but he could control who he killed and what his sword does. And control was important to him, it reminded him that the voices were not controlling him. 

Violence was controlled where he had lacked it in the past. He controlled his hand that held weapons to kill, the hand that clasped armour around himself as he went into battle. What he could not control, he ignored, although he often controlled himself. 

He could control his family, but his family also controlled him. His sword could never pierce any of their skins, his family controlled him and they did not know that.

Control was the warm, soft blue eyes of his father, the wings that would wrap around him when his voices would spiral. The father would bring him on adventures where the Blood God could kill as he wanted to to protect his father. He could control his violence, but he could not control his father who looked at him with pride. 

Control wielded and used by Wilbur, who used his words so beautifully and could make even the Blood God believe his dreams. In this way, the man once soft had controlled his brother through singing about saline solution, and the Blood God could not control him. But he could control the madman's violence. He could control the madman's craving for anarchy that made him blow up the country he created. He could not control how Wilbur pleaded for his dad to kill him.

Control used by his youngest brother, who could make anyone join him through optimism alone. Tommy had not known how much the Blood God cared for his bright blue eyes and loud personality. But the boy no longer had bright blue eyes or loud personality, the broken boy could not control him. But the moments where the boy he once knew showed through? The Blood God felt as though he was being controlled to protect the boy. But Tommy had controlled his brother too well, and the Blood God cracked at the betrayal of his youngest brother. 

Betrayal, how much a familiar feeling that was. Betrayal when he found out the armies he had once fought for recruited him because he could end the war with a look, not because they saw him as a human. He knew betrayal as well as he knew the cold of the tundra. 

The Blood God could never feel betrayed by him. Betrayed was something that could never be felt to his father, the father had done everything for the Blood God. He had been nothing but soft to the cursed boy. For that he owed his life to his father.

He was used as a weapon yet again. Betrayal he felt by the actions of Wilbur, who controlled him into thinking that total anarchy would happen, but the twin built a new government in front of the Blood God, and once again he was controlled and betrayed. So he blew it to the ground, because all he knew was violence. 

Betrayal at Tommy’s small and broken hands. That was not as much a betrayal as it was a shock. After everything that had been done for the boy, he chose the one who exiled him a second time. That stung deepest as Tommy had been the one to control the Blood God, and had been the one to betray him twice. 

Technoblade was meant to hold a sword in his hand, he was certain of this fact. He was meant to be controlled by anything that was not meant for violence, and betrayed by the same things. He was one of violence, not of words. He wished sometimes that he was able to put down the sword in order to do something that did not involve the red of blood, but he was the Blood God, and he required blood.

—

Now, the final piece to this family is the Angel of Death, the father who failed his two youngest to favour his eldest who did not need to be favoured, and he would regret this for the rest of his life.

He did not feel regret as he burned down villages, mansions, and took lives, as he destroyed biomes for his countless and perfect projects. The person who did this was the Angel of Death, a merciless man who had nothing to lose as he fought alongside the Blood God. But the focus is not on the Angel of Death, but instead on the counterpart that was a father, a father who felt so much regret.

The father regretted many things in raising his kids. He regrets raising the oldest in battle, and leaving his musician boy to raise the youngest, he regretted leaving his youngest two times. He never truly raised the other two, he would regret this as he saw the madness and broken looks in his son's eyes. He never knew his youngest sons, he would realise this as he saw their eyes for the first time in ten years, one of them so mad that just wanted death, and the other so broken it was a wonder how he was still alive. 

Regret is what he saw when he watched Techno fight, knowing that he would not be as controlled and betrayed as he was now if he had not taught him violence as a way to cope. He felt regret as he failed his son to keep him safe from the things that could hurt him. The boy could have been happier, and violence would not be his only friend had the father not taught him how to cope using this mechanism.

Regret stabbed him in the heart as Wilbur begged his father to kill him, because death was the only way out of the life he could no longer use his words to control and would have to own up to the destruction he had caused and did not know how to fix. Regret because he killed his abandoned musician, barely remembering the time he had been soft, because he had not loved the boy enough. But he had been there until Wilbur was 14, so he had raised this boy before leaving, which made nothing better but he had once known this boy. 

Regret stabbed the father all over his body as Tommy looked at him like he did not know him, in truth he did not know his father because the father had abandoned the boy three times and left the boy to die twice without looking back. He knew nothing of the youngest and he regretted it severely, he barely remembered a time when the boy had been loud and happy, but was replaced by a sorrowful, used, and broken boy who just wanted love. 

Phil was a father before Angel of Death, his job as a father is to love and support his family, to pick up their broken pieces and put them back together. He had held off on doing this job for so long, but he knew he had to start, he had to try for his violence son, his mad musician, and his broken boy. He was a failure of a father, but he’d be damned if he let himself stay that way. 

—

Do not mourn this torn family, for they do not mourn themselves as a family, they mourn the individual pieces, they mourn each other. 

This is the process: You fix what you used to know, you move on, and you ensure that it stayed fixed through love and care and that is what this family will do slowly, and this is where the first step of healing is taken.

Phil teaches Technoblade healthy coping mechanisms instead of violence and blood. The first was cooking, where Technoblade could control his skilled hand, where he could not be betrayed by any one who dared to use him. 

Phil snickered as he corrected his eldest's noodles again, “You shape the flour into a bowl, then you can crack the eggs into the bowl and mix them together. 

His son growled as he put down the bowl he was planning on mixing the eggs in.

“Because they’ll come out funny. Just make a flour bowl, you don’t need a wooden one mate, it’ll be more difficult but worth it.”

“Damn right I got it,” The son chuckled, and as his father left to repair relationships with his other two boys, Techno knew this time he wouldn’t be betrayed. “I don’t care if they come out funny, they’ll work the same”

“It’ll taste better,” Phil comments as he puts on his bucket hat and grabs a cloak meant for the tundra.

His son grunts, “Can’t argue with that.”

So Phil leaves, he walks to the nation of his younger sons to repair that relationship.

\--

It starts with Phil finally resurrecting his middle son, promising to be there for him. He would care for the boy this time. He repairs the relationship with his middle son by resurrecting him. This time he did it with the intention of being there for his musician even if he was still mad. They sat looking into the crater of L’manburg. He would use his words, and he would not use destruction that he knew too well. 

“You’re a shit dad,” Wilbur commented, breaking the silence they held for the past ten minutes sense his revival.

Phil nodded, “I’m going to try harder this time. I want to be better.”

“It can’t be that hard, you hardly tried. You’ve been a better father in the past ten minutes then you have in the past twenty four years. Why change now? Do you regret it?” Wilbur took control of the situation with his words. 

“I didn’t at first, because I thought that you two would be fine. But now it’s my biggest regret, because you two were obviously not fine. I’ve fucked up.”

“Understatement of the year. Would you have stayed if you’d known?”

“I don’t think I would ever leave you two.”

The madman and the one who used to be soft were one in the same. One similarity they had out of many was that they both just wanted their father. So, he decided to be vulnerable, he decided that this may not last long, but he could spend a few days acting as though it would be, “Please don’t leave me again.” 

“Never. C’mon, we need to find Tommy. Techno’s at the house-“ “Dream would have to kill me for me to consider leaving you again. Right now we need to find Tommy. Techno’s at the house-”

“-Why did you say ‘the house’? You didn’t say home.” Wilbur had to ask, as he was a master of his words.

Phil smiled, “I’ve never had a home, because none of my boys have been there. So let’s make that house into a home.

\--

Finally, he will find his youngest son. He will stand and take the boys cursing, he will resist the urge to wipe the tears fallen from his broken eyes. He will let the broken boy yell of his sorrows, he will let the boy who has been used use him. Wilbur had gone off, looking for his old coat that Tommy currently wore as he screamed, eventually his screams would turn sad as his carefully built defences were torn down by himself.

“I needed you Phil! Damn it I needed you! I needed you when I was a kid, when I fought a war, when I was in exile both times, when my brother was killed. I needed you. So why are you here, someone who repeats their actions does not regret them, because I’m not going to let myself be used by you again. I’d rather stay the useless boy who you left.,” When had Tommy become so wise, when had he learned this?

“I know you need me now. I know that now and I regret not being there as you grew up. You’re not… Tommy you’re not useless.”

“Then why did Dream say it? Why had everyone I trusted said it!? Why is that the only thing people see me as, someone who can be used and blamed?”

“Because you’re young, and blaming youth is easier then blaming yourself.”

Tommy was like Wilbur, and growing up all he had wanted was some sign that his father cared. He had a small sign, no matter how temporary it was he would fall into the same trap as he always did, “I can’t forgive you.”

“The moment you do forgive me is the day that I believe that you are an impostor.”

Tommy looked with tears in his eyes, “I don’t know how to heal. I can’t heal, I can’t be a kid when every time I close my eyes I see destruction. I know this will only get me hurt.”

“I won’t let you get hurt, I’ll let you push me off a cliff before I let you. In truth, I don’t know how to heal either, but we can figure it out together. And I’m not leaving you again.”

“Promise?” Oh how broken the sorrowful boy's voice was, but how beautiful the hope that could come from it was. And Tommy was sorrowful, but he was hopeful, even if he believed it would only last a short amount of time. 

“Promise.”

\--

In ten minutes, Tommy will see his musician brother breathing and holding a guitar that was meant to be forgotten. Ten seconds after they will be in each other's arms, and Wilbur will not be able to control his apologies as they slip from his mouth. Tommy will not feel used. 

One hour later, the family will be reunited in a house in the Tundra, eating chicken noodle soup. It will be awkward, no one will speak until Techno accidentally says out loud cobblestone is the worst material. Tommy was quick to defend its honour, the table will erupt in playful banter and soup will grow cold. A house in the tundra is made a home in twenty minutes.

Later, Tommy will hunt down Techno, and he will say apologies that sound come out naturally, and Techno has no control of this situation, so he finds his brother being pulled into a tight hug. No words needed to say he was forgiven. 

Wilbur will go outside, and Techno will follow behind shortly. They will talk, they will cry. And they will go back inside with Wilbur in Techno’s blue cape, no one will acknowledge it.

They will fall asleep by each other, and it was warm. The weight is pushed from Atlas’s shoulders and they will bear it together. 

Do not mourn for this family, for they do not need to be mourned for. As they mourn for each other. As all people who mourn do, they move on. This family moves on together for the first time. They will not betray, destroy, regret, or use each other. 

When you put the Angel of Death, Blood God, Musician, and Atlas/Theseus together, you will get a family where there used to be war.


End file.
